Pieces
by 0melting.snow0
Summary: He hates her. He slushies her. But she is in his heart and he can't look away because he knows she's dying. Puckleberry-love
1. Chapter 1

**Pieces**

Chapter 1

He watches her wash herself after one of his Slushie attacks. It's obvious that she doesn't know he's there but he figures she wouldn't expect anything else from him. Beyoncé is with her, rambling about Finn's ass and getting her hair fixed. It's okay, because he's gay, otherwise Noah Puckerman would throw him into a dumpster again.

The problem is he can't help himself. It's like all those years ago, when he showed her a snake and she freaked out completely. Now she simply accepts the fact that he is harassing her. He hates her because he knows she thinks it's because he's jealous. What he is so not…

When Beyoncé leaves, she is alone and stares into the mirror almost as if the answers of the questions, locked inside her head, are right in front of her. She is so deep in thought that she barely recognizes the Cheerios leaving the room laughing about the purple colour of her skirt. He knows what is going to happen next because, even if everybody else is so busy looking away, he is well aware of the fact that she is wasting away right in front of him.

A sob escapes her throat and she trembles, she quivers, like the leaf in the hedge. This moment is important because it emphasized the theme of redemption. He thinks he's never going to slushie her again but he knows it's going to happen again because he is the stud and she the loser.

He is supposed to be looking after his team. Not this Gleek. Not some stupid pretty girl who is clearly over stressed. She gets too involved with herself and now she is paying for it. Sensitive people get worn down quicker than hard people…

The next day he thinks she's fine because she is talking as if she'd just swallowed a dictionary. Sometimes he asks himself why she couldn't stop speaking. It's like she needs to be heard, because otherwise she would disappear.

He is the only one who sees the dark circles under her eyes. They're the signature from all of them; Finn for breaking her heart; Quinn for harassing her; Kurt for telling her she has no style; Mercedes for being much more of a diva than Rachel could've ever been; him for… well… let's not get there…

The clothes get baggier but he just can't bring himself to care, even though he should because she is in his heart.

Sometimes she looks at him, eyes almost asking.

One day after Glee they sit next to each other in silence. She is taking comfort in his presence and he is relieved that she is still breathing. "You're hungry?

Rachel's head drops down and looks at her feet. "I can't eat. Every time I try I throw up."

"You're dying." He sees her tense and watches as she slowly opens her eyes and turns around to face him; face pale, clutching her bag tightly. She doesn't speak and he doesn't know what he wants her to say so he speaks again.

"I'm right…"

"You noticed…"

"It's hard not to…"

"The other's didn't…", she whispers.

"It's not like they're very attentive…"

"But you are?"

"Sometimes…"

TbC

A/N: Thanks to my Beta, Knautschi. :D Yes that's her name. Don't make fun about it. She's pretty sensitive.

Reviews are very much appreciated. (:


	2. Chapter 2

"_Death is terrifying because it is so ordinary. It happens all the time."_

(Susan Cheever)

**Chapter 2**

She'd cut her hair short, probably because she is too tiered to look after it. Now there is no need for him holding it back while she is throwing up. She tells him. Of course. It is too hard keeping a secret like this to her and she needs someone to talk to. He is not happy about that because he is one of those guys who can't handle death. Especially when it comes bit by bit.

They're walking side by side now. While she's drowning in her clothes he's the one holding her upright. It had happened without the others noticing and now it was happening too fast.

There'd been a time when the glances of the others had bothered her. But now… Everything changes…

There are moments when she can't take his presence. It's like she's running away from the truth not even he is aware of. She looks almost sad as he lets his anger consume him, bringing tears to her eyes and irrational words to his tongue.

"Nausea?", he asks silently.

"Of course…"

She looks for solace in the empty hallway behind him and finds it almost impossible to pull herself out of the trance some bone-crushing illness put her in.

Now, two months later she is incapable of making decisions and agrees with everything Puck says – deciding it's the easiest option.

During Nationals she sits in the audience and while he sings and performs he's wondering how skin can become so translucent. He is a year older than her, with a bad temper, harsh words he can't contain and no clue how he is supposed to deal with her pain. He thinks her body is just not able to bear the weight of the world. Maybe she's just too fragile. Too sensitive. Too perfect.

At the end of the day Rachel sits down on her bed. She wraps herself in her warm comforter and sighs. She wants to stop this. She thinks it had. If only she could open up and tell him. Now he is the one singing fancy love songs. It's like he thinks if he keeps singing she isn't going to die. But life ain't a fairy tale. As long as she can keep her masquerade up he is fine and that's somewhat comforting.

When she isn't at school, he calls her. Just to make sure she's still breathing.

"Hello?"

He sighs into the telephone like the weight of the world is settled on his shoulders, only to slip off into freefall and start dragging him down with it in clenching, grasping fingers. The air thickens with the depression that sluices off him in waves. This is the moment when she asks herself who of them feels more broken.

"Just wanted to make sure you're still breathing."

"I am. For now…"

"Just…"

"What?", she whispered.

"Don't give up… Not yet…"

She freezes at the words, and all she can think is that he knows. He knows that there are moments when she's too tired to care that she is dying. So tired, she thinks it might be better just to slip away…

TbC

A/N: I know Puck is *a little bit* ooc, but I hope you still like it…


	3. Chapter 3

_From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.__ [Edvard Munch]_

**Chapter 3**

He tells her he loves her. Just like this. It lacks all the romantic platitudes he can think about but normal's overrated anyway. She's staring at him, almost as if she's afraid that the thing that's killing her had finally stripped her off her senses.

"What are you talking about?"

He shrugs and stares and swallows and trembles and caves.

"It's nothing…", he finally admits. "I'm just… dealing, I guess."

"So am I."

She knows it's a mistake. She knows, and she's doing it anyway. His lips are soft and his hand in her hair is comforting. She wants to cry, to turn her back at him because when she's gone he'll still be here. But it feels so right, so real. For her, life is different. Somehow. Being in an eternal limbo; a state of being and not being.

She can't decide if it's a promise or their ruin. All she knows is that she wants it. There are times when he wants to shake her, make her see the world like he does. But she can't because all that's left are shades of grey and vivid red.

It might be a cliché but they don't know each other. Not really. He mocks her and she reads him, but they don't know each other beyond the superficial Rachel and Puck. She knows it has to end. They had too many goodbyes already. He watched his father leave and she never got to meet her mother. Now they have each other and that's enough for now but she is afraid of what's going to happen when it ends.

From this moment on he holds her hand when they're in school. Nobody dares to slushie her now because everybody is able to see what's happening even though they don't talk about it. When they're at Glee Club it's easy to forget the bright future she was supposed to have ahead of her when she leaves right away to throw up again.

He follows her, gently stroking her back when she isn't able to breathe because her lungs are ready to collapse.

When he guides her home she lays down and he watches her sleep. Watching her had become his new pastime. And he can't help but wonder which realm is worse – the demons she battles in slumber, or the ones she meets face to face. It finally reaches the point where he can't close his eyes anymore, until he reassures himself that she is safely asleep. It's addiction, an obsession and it demands a price from his soul. He is losing himself and wonders if it's her who's dying or him.

This newfound codependence feels strange. Most of the people spend their lives searching for a place to call home and the ties that bind. Not him. His life is spontaneous and self-serving. Now everything had changed, and as a result his priorities were drastically rearranged.

Her eyes are closed and her head is resting on his shoulder. At night he can't sleep anymore because he's afraid that she's going to stop breathing. Sometimes she trembles and quivers and shakes and he can't take it. It's like the proof that time is limited and it runs through his fingers like withered memories. So he holds her tighter against his chest while she's slipping away.

TbC


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Funerals are supposed to be sad and depressing. There should be rain and thunder and grief. But after all, her life has always been about the bright sight. So he figures that it's okay that the sun is shining and the blue birds are singing. It's like she choose it to be this way.

He is far away from the others. The tears are annoying and it isn't his way of dealing with this kind of stuff. His dad left a long time ago, now she's gone and all he can think about is this humble feeling in his chest. His gaze lingers on Quinn's swollen abdomen and he feels fucked up. He laughs because he thinks that he would turn to Berry in a moment like this.

There had been moments when he asked himself if he'd ever regret falling for Rachel in the first place. All this sadness, all these stupid tears… She'd probably smack him if she'd see him at this place. But let's face it… He's not sorry in any way. Her touch still lingers in the air next to him and he comes to the conclusion that it'll be fine.

He will leave Lima after graduation with his baby girl and old memories that are never going to disappear. His Mom doesn't care and Rachel's Dads offered him a job not too far away from Reno. There'll be College and a Football scholarship – a life how it's supposed to be.

He briefly remembers being with her when it happened. He forced himself not to get nuts over her limp body. That's what they'd taught him in one of this silly first aid classes he took when he'd realized what was wrong with her. At some point it just stopped – her breath and him trying to force her back into a life she was so tired of.

When the paramedics arrived he was still hovering over her, while her dad's accepted the fact that she was now gone, far calmer than he ever could be. There was pale skin and blue lips and the soft skin of her fingertips… He never wanted to change, he never wanted to be _that _cheesy fucked up guy that knows, just _knows…_

This is not about ends or beginnings; what works and what fails and what he's not going to give.

They wanted him to say something during the funeral, like he's some superhero that knows her better than anybody else. Maybe he is – was. Maybe he isn't – wasn't.

In his head, days come and go the way they're sort of gravitated towards each other. He didn't know her. But it's here. She was here.

The idea of consequences is starting to disappear and that erases any chance of false pretenses for him.

He shakes his head.

There's nothing to say. There's never anything to say to something like that. So bewildered his hands curl into fists and he watches her go.

He's going to keep watching her go.

The End


End file.
